So . . . a Sequal

Last week Dave Hoffman made the following observation on writing and word usage:

"All else equal, shorter law review articles are better than longer ones.  But bloat’s allies are legion: editors; footnote-related positional competition; bad publisher incentives, etc.  For fun, I decided to test a few of Strunk & White’s dreaded common needless phrases to see which appears most often in law review articles."

The phrases he found most needlessly used were “the question as to whether” and “the fact that." Both of these phrases are generally superfluous (I say generally because I dislike using the words "always" or "never" in this context). "The question as to whether" can be replaced with "whether" and "the fact that" can almost always be deleted without any loss in clarity.

Larry Cunningham, also at Concurring Opinions, posted a pretty funny comment on the thread (number 14) using a lot of Strunk & White's needless phrases (Dave said it was irresistible, and I agree). Yesterday Larry noted that his comment had started with the word "so" as a "nudge . . . against an idiomatic fashion to begin sentences with “So.”" After noting that it may be improper English (citing to a wiki.answers article about that usage), he concludes:

"I am convinced it is not good for professors to follow the idiomatic fashion. A few years ago, my law school interviewed an entry-level candidate who began sentences with “So” often. Many colleagues cited the annoyance as a negative. They tried to suppress the habit’s significance when evaluating the overall record, recognizing the idiomatic fashion, but it hurt the candidate. We did not extend an offer."

I wonder whether the problem here was idiomatic fashion, or just plain annoyance at needless repetition. Does that make its use wrong? Not to discount wikianswers, but if you consult Strunk & White, they only list "so" as a needless word when used as an intensifier (ie, "so hot" or "so good"). They do not address it at the start of sentences or in other uses.

Persuasive to me on this point, however, is this entry from the Oxford Dictionary of American Usage and Style:

So. A. Beginning Sentences with.
Like And and But, So is a good word for beginning a sentence. Each of these three is the informal equivalent of the heavier and longer conjunctive adverb (Additionally, However, and Consequently or Therefore). Rhetoric, not grammar, is what counts here. The shorter word affords a brisker pace—e.g.: “Under a state law enacted last year, prisoners must serve at least 85 percent of their sentences, but the state Supreme Court has ruled that the change cannot be applied retroactively. So Mark Brown is out walking around” (Lancaster New Era).

The Oxford English Dictionary has an entry for "so" that appears to approve of its use at the start of a sentence, "5. c. An introductory particle," with the example, "So, let me see: my apron." Another definition (10.b.) declares "so" can be used as "an introductory particle, without a preceding statement (but freq. implying one)." Given my reading, I don't think starting a sentence with the word "so" breaks any clear rule of grammar or usage.

None of this does anything, however, to help the faculty candidate in Larry's story who repeatedly said, "so," as he spoke. I'm guessing it might not have been the choice of word that bothered the committee (though they may have thought it was), but the repetition. If the candidate had said, "um" "er" or "narf!" repeatedly, that likewise would have been annoying. Perhaps the "so" was unnecessary as used (ie, it was a comfort word, not purposefully uttered), but it still wouldn't matter that it was the word "so" that was used. Without overuse, however, such as in blog posts, it might be appropriate (though in looking back at my own posts here, I have been using it frequently, and likely too frequently).

I think Dave's original message -- watch out for unnecessary word usage -- is a good one. I have a tendency to length over conciseness, and I work hard to shorten my formal writing through multiple edits, though I don't always succeed (in blogging, I usually don't have the time to do four or five edits or else I would post less frequently than I already am). For Larry's point, if we think of it more as "use words when you mean to use words, or else even good words can be used superfluously," I'd agree. As an argument against the word "so" as a way to start sentences, I don't think I do.

And it's been hard, but I didn't start a single sentence in this post with the word "so."

Comments

[Steven Lubet]

So you didn't.

[Eric Fink]

Let us not forget one of the most beautiful, and famous, sentences in modern literature:

So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.

I don't think it would have quite the same effect without the "so".

So there.

[Scott Boone]

Starting sentences with "and" and "but" is one of my biggest writing vices. I cannnot resist it (though I eventually edit them all out). And placing parentheticals within parentheses where a dependent clause would suffice is my second biggest writing vice.

[Matt]

Scott,
If Matthew Arnold can start a whole chapter of _Culture and Anarchy_ with "But", I think it will be find if you start a few sentences with it!

[Rob Heverly]

I really enjoyed the comments on this post. Eric, just to be fair to Larry, he did recognize an exception for poetry, and I think that probably applies to all kinds of "lyrical" writing, including novels. A great line, though, and definitely one to leave as is. Scott (perhaps I should have said, "And Scott"), I agree with Matt, no problem with a few "and" or "but" line starters in a piece (just don't go and overdo it now).

[Lawrence Cunningham]

Rob: Thanks for the careful report. I am happy to concentrate on the manifest problem of overuse of so to begin a sentence, in the usage I describe, not on rigid adherence to a rule banning so to begin a sentence. Thanks also for noting the scope of my criticism, which did not encompass examples used in this thread, "So you didn't," "So we beat on," or "So there."

[Eoin O'Dell]

Rob would probably not approve of Seamus Heaney beginning his translation of Beowulf with the word "So". He explains:

... when the men of the family spoke, the words they uttered came across with a weighty distinctness, phonetic units as separate and defined as delph platters displayed on a dresser shelf. A simple sentence such as ‘We cut the corn today’ took on immense dignity when one of the Scullions spoke it. They had a kind of Native American solemnity of utterance, as if they were announcing verdicts rather than making small talk. And when I came to ask myself how I wanted Beowulf to sound in my version, I realized I wanted it to be speakable by one of those relatives. I therefore tried to frame the famous opening lines in cadences that would have suited their voices, but that still echoed with the sound and sense of the Anglo-Saxon.

Hwæt w Gr-Dena in gar-dagum
Þod-cyninga þrym gefrnon,
H p æþelingas ellen fremedon

Conventional renderings of hwæt, the first word of the poem, tend towards the archaic literary, with ‘lo’, ‘hark’, ‘behold’, ‘attend’ and – more colloquially – ‘listen’ being some of the solutions offered previously. But in Hiberno-English Scullion-speak, the particle ‘so’ came naturally to the rescue, because in that idiom ‘so’ operates as an expression that obliterates all previous discourse and narrative, and at the same time functions as an exclamation calling for immediate attention. So, ‘so’ it was:

So. The Spear-Danes in days gone by
and the kings who ruled them had courage and greatness.
We have heard of those princes’ heroic campaigns.

If it's good enough for a Nobel prize winner, then it's good enough for me!

[Joe (A.B.)]

Heaney's "So." doesn't feel quite right to me. Liuzza's "Listen!" is better. ("Hark" might be good, in that it sounds more like "hwaet," but there are some other problems with it.)

[Rob Heverly]

Eoin, I have no problem with "So" in Heaney's translation, and I doubt Larry would, either (especially given his post and statement here in the comments). Poetic license = excuse to do whatever you want with the language so long as it sounds cool and speaks to someone. If he repeated two thousand times, it would be a different story (though perhaps Philip Glass could even get away with that).